Or maybe texting isn’t as awesome as I thought.
Friday was the last day of kid #3’s classes before Fall break. This is part and parcel of the modified year-round school schedule here where kids start school in late July and get a two-week break in late September.
No, it doesn’t make a whole lotta sense to take a break just when they’re getting acclimated to showing up at school sometime between 7 and 8am five days a week. It’s like that ridiculous math rule that multiplying two negatives makes a positive, it just has to be accepted despite all arguments to the contrary.
Most weekday mornings my house resembles either a convent where the inhabitants have all taken a vow of silence, or a zoo filled with angry, snarling animals.
Friday it was a zoo. #3 snarled and snapped at me for no reason I could discern. I can usually act like a mature adult around this surliness, but I was in no mood for that sh*t. I don’t exactly rejoice in making someone a hot breakfast before dawn. And this week was no fun at all, so I may have muttered a nasty word at her, mostly under my breath.
Not a stellar start.
I got her dropped off at the usual place, at the usual time just as the sun was rising. (I’m really done with this already.)
At 9:52am, I received this text from #3:
“Mom I need transparent sticky notes STAT”
(My very first thought was: WTF? It’s the last day before a two week break, how important can transparent sticky notes be? Followed by: Does she seriously expect me to careen over to the nearest office supply store, purchase said sticky notes, and deliver them to the school office?)
“What do you want me to do?”
“Please get some or else my book will be litered with nON TRANSPARENT STICKIES”
No joke, ya’ll, that’s the exact text. Ignoring, if we can, the spelling error and dramatic capitalization, I discerned that this was a) an issue in her accelerated English class (which I sincerely hope covers spelling), and b) not an actual sticky note emergency.
I assured her I would pick some up while I was out running errands. So in between finding a Fed Ex drop-off place (harder than I expected because they all moved when I wasn’t looking) at which to deposit the latest round of escrow papers on the House That Is Taking Forever To Sell; swinging by the post office to mail an escrow form to my divorce lawyer — because parties to a divorce can’t do anything without their lawyers’ involvement, thus generating more fees for her kids’ college funds; going to the grocery store and the home improvement store, I skittered into Office Depot.
The fresh-faced young man at the door asked if he could help me and I shoved my damn phone in his face, demanding he tell me where they kept the transparent sticky notes. His reply, “I’m not sure we have transparent ones.”
Are you serious? Am I hunting nematoads, for crying out loud?
He escorted me to the sticky note aisle, awash in a sea of neon colors, and I proceeded to find and capture the last three packs of transparent sticky notes in the store (and at four bucks a pop, she better use them wisely).
Honestly, now that I know what to look for, I can keep a supply on hand from Amazon.
Of course, now that I have a plan, she’ll never need another transparent sticky note in her life.